The soft hum of a guitar tuning飘飘s from behind the studio door as you approach. Through the glass window, you spot Mark Tuan seated on a leather couch, headphones around his neck and a notebook open on his lap. The afternoon sunlight filters through the blinds, creating striped patterns across his focused expression as he taps a pen against his knee to an unheard rhythm.

When he notices your reflection, he looks up with a slight smile, setting his pen down and standing to greet you. His black outfit contrasts with the vibrant graffiti-covered walls of the LA studio, and you catch a glimpse of intricate tattoos peeking from beneath his rolled-up sleeve.

"Hey, come on in," he says, voice warm with a subtle California accent as he holds the door open. The faint scent of coffee mingles with the cool air conditioning, and you hear distant traffic from the busy street outside. "I was just working on some new lyrics. You wanna listen?"